Manipulated

by Kimberly Montague

  "Risa." He drew my name out as if scolding me and put his hands on my upper arms, bending down to try to look me in the eye again. "I mean the kind of kiss that makes the blood pump so loudly in your ears that you can't hear yourself think. The kind of kiss that makes you feel like someone just shot you full of electricity and you're tingling everywhere. The kind of kiss that makes you not care that you're about to die from lack of oxygen. The way I just kissed you and the way you kissed me back. That was your first wasn't it. That's why you freaked and ran from me?"

  I didn't answer—couldn't answer—out of embarrassment and because I had no idea what any of this meant. I could hear Mom's voice in my mind. "Guys make you lose sight of your goals. That's what they do, Risa. They try to trap you, so you have no way to be your own person. I don't want that for you, honey. That's why I won't let you date." Was I losing sight of my goals? Did I have goals to lose sight of? That kiss certainly made everything leave my brain. Was that what she was trying to help me avoid? I had to admit, I was freaked and confused. But I was also a little thrilled and still a lot attracted to Brodie.

  "Talk to me, Risa." He put his hand on top of my head. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

  I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, but it felt too weak. I wasn't weak. Confused, embarrassed, and out of my league, yeah. But I was not weak. I willed myself to look up at him with an even face. "You just caught me off-guard." As I said the words, I almost cringed. I hated that—being caught off-guard. I was supposed to be more careful. I'd lectured myself how many times? I should have been prepared for kissing Brodie. I knew it would happen eventually, and then it does happen, and I freak out like a pre-teen. I wanted to bury myself under a rock somewhere, but I had to recover from this. I sucked up all my courage and stepped forward, placing my hand on his chest. I tried for a teasing tone as I said, "I really just didn't think you knew how to kiss. I wasn't expecting you to have some skills, so you caught me off-guard a little." I forced myself to keep eye contact with him, but it just showed me that he saw right through me.

  He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but closed it again and shook his head. That lopsided grin came back, and he winked at me. "Well, now you know." I nodded, and he continued to stare at me like I was a piece in a jigsaw puzzle he was trying to fit somewhere. Finally, he shook his head again and said, "Come on, let's go somewhere safer where there are more people."

  I didn't ask what he meant by the comment. I wasn't really sure I wanted to know, but he took my hand and pulled me back through the gate and to his friends. I sat there, quietly listening to the conversation around me for several minutes before Lara scooted over to me. We got to talking about TV shows, which led us to the topic of montages online. When I mentioned I'd made several video montages, her eyes lit up, and we spent a long time talking about programs and websites for photos. I really wanted to show her the ones I had posted on my video page, but I was too afraid one of my ex-friends or classmates had posted rude comments about me.

  While we were talking, Brodie stood with Sammy, speaking quietly. They both looked serious, and I worried that he was telling him about my embarrassing response to kissing him. When I saw Sammy pull out a pack of cigarettes and pass Brodie one, I tried not to show a reaction. I hated cigarettes. They smelled awful, looked stupid, and killed people. He'd made the off-hand remark about smoking and drinking being the only things he did anymore, but I still couldn't picture him smoking. Seeing it in person bothered me. Not that I'd turn my back on him just because he did smoke, it just wasn't something I'd expected… again. Too many surprises, but did I really expect to have a strong grasp on the guy? I had to just go with the flow or spend my Saturday nights watching TV on the couch with Dad and Ms. Abbott. No way was I living like that. So I forced myself to stop looking up at Brodie and focused on having a good time on my own.

  After a few hours, I realized I didn't even know where Brodie was. I'd had two more beers and was feeling pretty good—not at all wasted, but relaxed. Mason, Lara, and I were sprawled out on the grass on our stomachs making fun of Sammy and Jose, who were wrestling. Jose was much larger than Sammy, but he'd had way more to drink, so it was a fairly even match. They kept yelling at each other in Spanish. I couldn't understand them, but it was funny nonetheless. At some point, Charlie and Petey shoved their way in between us, and we were all huddled together boy-girl-boy-girl.

  Charlie nudged me with his shoulder. "So there's a thing at The Court next Friday, you wanna go?"

  I was laughing so hard as Sammy tried to pants Jose that I thought I'd heard Charlie wrong. "What?"

  "Next Friday, The Court, you wanna go with me?" He stared at me as I tried to come up with an appropriate response. "Unless you're thinking you and Brodie vibe. You know he doesn't do the whole one-girl thing."

  My stomach turned with the burn of the attachment I already felt toward Brodie, but I tried to play it off. "Yeah, no—I—I've been warned." I nodded, but kept my eyes on Sammy and Jose and forced my smile to stay on my lips.

  "Cool. So you're cash then?"

  I shook my head and laughed lightly. "I don't know what that means."

  "Cash, you know, casual, easy, friends with benefits kinda thing."

  My jaw dropped open despite my efforts not to show a reaction. Reasonable question, Risa, my brain shouted at me. Hello, you know Brodie's reputation. Right, it was to be expected, and yet, moron—I wasn't ready for it. Wow. I needed some serious social skills.

  "Charlie." Lara's very serious tone held all kinds of warnings. "I'd drop that if I were you."

  "What?" he asked, looking over at her. "She's here with Brodie, Lara. You know what that means. We all know what that means."

  A very angry, but familiar voice came from behind us. "That's not what it means, Charlie."

  I rolled over to see Brodie standing above us, glaring hard at Charlie. He looked like he might want to strangle him, and I was confused about why. He knew his reputation. He had to know they'd assume I fit the mold. Hell, I was already over the comment. If they wanted to think that, fine. In fact, I was attracted to Brodie. He made me feel crazy things I hadn't felt before. Why shouldn't I sleep with him? It'd be another one of those "experiences" I wanted to have in life. Why not with him?

  I stood up a little too quickly and Brodie grabbed my arm to steady me. I disentangled myself from the group and stepped closer to Brodie, our chests touching. His eyes were so clear in the moonlight. I licked my lips and put my hand on his waist. "Maybe that is what it means," I challenged.

  There was almost complete silence around me. Brodie stared hard into my eyes. I could feel his breath fall in fast, heavy spurts. He looked a little angry as he grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the gate.

  "Bye Brodie. See ya at school, Risa!" Lara shouted.

  Brodie didn't say anything. He walked me over to the passenger side of his truck, opened the door, and all but tossed me in. A second later, he was climbing in and slamming his door.

  I didn't know what to think. Was he mad at me? Was he taking me back to his place to sleep with me? I had no clue, so I just sat there, staring out the side window. Ten minutes later, he pulled down my street and parked by the curb. I watched him keep his hand on the ignition as if he was trying to decide whether to turn the engine off or not. My pride wouldn't let me sit there any longer.

  I pulled together as much sarcasm as I could. "Thanks for the ride." I meant it in more ways than one. I had the door open and one foot out when he grabbed my hand.

  "Wait." He turned off the engine and the lights. "Just—sit with me a minute while I figure out what to do with you."

  I did not close the door. In fact, I got completely out of the truck. "What to do with me? I don't know who you think you are, but I am not your responsibility. I'm no one's responsibility. I take care of myself. I don't need a damn big brother." I slammed the door and took off toward the townhouse.

  Brodie beat me to the sidewalk and grabbed my upper arms, h
olding me firmly, but not painfully in place. "Just stop for a minute, please." I glared up at him, and he had exhaustion and fear in his eyes. "Just hear me out for a few minutes… please?"

  I let out a long sigh and rolled my head on my neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. "I'm listening."

  He pointed to the truck, and I glared for a minute then walked back and climbed in. Staring out the side window, I felt really tired. It had to be around two in the morning, and the alcohol in me had converted from buzz to sleepiness and pure emotional drain.

  "I'm just gonna say it. I don't what I'm doing here, sunshine. You and me are on different levels, and I—" He scrubbed his eyes with his hand. "Why don't you tell me what it is you want from me? Why'd you go out with me tonight?"

  How was I supposed to answer that? I went out with him because he asked. I went out with him because no one told me not to. I went because I wanted to have an experience and prove my father wrong and be someone different. And I went because I liked him. I didn't say any of that though, I just shrugged tiredly.

  "Come here, Risa." He scooted back against the door and pulled his leg up on the seat. "I just wanna hold you." He raised his eyebrow. "You're not afraid to let me hold you, are you?"

  Damn him. He knew I wouldn't back down from a challenge. I moved over and turned my back to his chest, leaning on him with my legs pulled up on the seat. "Happy now?" I asked petulantly.

  "Almost," he said with laughter in his voice. His arm came off the back of the seat and wrapped around my upper chest while his other arm wrapped around my waist. "Now, I'm happy."

  He was happy holding me? But he didn't know what to do with me. Guys were seriously confusing.

  "I usually read people like a book. They wear their stories in their eyes, and with a couple well-timed questions, they're opening up their guts to show me. Not you, though. I've been tryin' to figure you out for days. Longer than that, really—those first few days in Civics months ago had me intrigued. So, tell me, sunshine, what's your story?"

  Like I was just gonna blurt the whole thing out right there. Did he seriously think a little cuddling would make me open my guts up to him? No. But I was willing to give him a little bit of the truth. "I don't have a story, really. That's why I went out with you. My mom sheltered me a lot, so now I'm with my dad and wanna see what I've been missing."

  He ran his hand up and down my arm in a relaxing way. "Why aren't you with your mom anymore?"

  Oooh, tricky territory. "We had a fight. I ran away. Pretty typical, really."

  "What'dya fight about?"

  "Nosey, aren't you?" I accused. "You know, I still don't know who you live with and why."

  "Fair enough. I'll talk if you talk. I live with my grandma. My mom's out there somewhere living a drugged-up life—I don't know. Grams' just always been my parent. So what was the fight about?"

  I shook my head. "Ask me something else."

  He stopped rubbing my arm. "Risa, you agreed that y—"

  "I didn't agree. You assumed." It was true. I hadn't agreed. But I didn't want him to be mad or feel like I didn't want to talk at all, so I threw out one of those olive branches people always suggest. "Ask me something else."

  "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

  Ugh, something else I didn't want to talk about. After my little freak out earlier, I guess I couldn't blame him for wanting to know my lack of history. "Define boyfriend."

  "You hang out together, talk as much as you can, and can't keep your hands off each other."

  I thought back to Josh a year earlier around Homecoming time. We hung out in a group, but would always wind up talking just him and me. But the whole "couldn't keep our hands off each other" I wasn't sure about. We'd kissed, but after kissing Brodie, I realized his kisses didn't make me crazy like Brodie's, and I wasn't constantly out to kiss Josh again and again. So, by that definition, Josh wasn't a boyfriend although I'd called him that for a few weeks.

  It was pretty much the same when I took inventory of my "relationship" with Brent. He was nice to be around, but I wasn't constantly thinking about kissing him. On the other hand, I'd hung out with Brodie for a few days, talked a lot, and definitely liked his hands on me, but I wasn't his "girlfriend" and distinctly knew it.

  "I don't know that I fully agree with your definition. I think it's missing the idea that you want those things with only one person, but I've had a couple boyfriends."

  His arm tightened around my shoulders. "And you kissed them the way you kissed me?"

  Crap. "Hell no," was definitely the honest response, but I didn't want to say that. I didn't want him to know how inexperienced I was. "It wasn't quite like that." There, that was all I was giving him.

  "Mmm-hmm."

  I pulled away from him and turned to glare. "Look, just cuz I haven't had my tongue down twenty guys' throats doesn't mean I haven't been turned on by what we did together. You think you know everything about me from one stupid kiss when you just admitted you can't figure me out."

  The corners of his mouth pulled up in a smug grin. "That's why I'm askin' the questions, sweetheart. Just trying to get a clearer picture here."

  "Okay, let's start on you then. By my definition, how many girlfriends have you had?"

  He kept his eyes locked tight with mine, not blinking or moving an inch. "None."

  "Mmm-hmm," I mimicked. "And why's that, Mr. Decker? Fear of commitment? Fear of relationships? Fear of getting attached to someone who might leave you?"

  His smile fell. "It's not that complicated, sunshine. I've just never found someone who's kept me interested long enough to call my girlfriend."

  "That's sad," I blurted out. "Even sadder than my mother wouldn't let me date cuz she was afraid I'd get knocked up and live her life."

  He tilted his head at me. "Is that your deal? She wouldn't let you? That's it? And you ran away because she sheltered you."

  It's why I hadn't had a boyfriend, but if he wanted to believe I'd run away because of it, so be it. It was better than telling him the truth. I didn't want to tell anyone the truth, least of all Brodie.

  "And that's why you went out with me," he continued. "You really were hoping I'd pop your—"

  "No." I shook my head and moved farther away from him. "I like talking to you. You're smart and funny, and I don't know anyone here. I went out with you because I thought it'd be fun. That's all. I'm not here for—I'm not—" I thought about what Charlie had said. "I'm not casual."

  He smiled a little. "No, you're definitely not casual. But I'm not the boyfriend type, sunshine. So where does that leave us?"

  I shrugged. I had no idea. This was new territory for me. He reached out and ran his fingers through my hair, and I couldn't help but lean into his touch, placing my hands on his calf. The gentle pull of his movements had me so relaxed I closed my eyes. I heard him shift in my direction a moment before our lips met. Softly, gently like before, he brushed his lips across mine. But I knew the other half of this kiss, and I wanted to force the pendulum to swing in that direction faster. I put my palms on his cheeks and pulled him closer to me, opening my mouth to his serious skills. I copied his movements, and his hands gripped my hips in a desperate way.

  He pulled back a little to move his leg to the floor, and between kisses, he scooted away from the steering wheel. When his arm went around my waist and tugged, I didn't know what he was doing.

  "I want you closer," he said breathlessly as he guided my leg over his lap.

  I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and glued my chest to his. He reclaimed my mouth and pulled my hips into his. The crazy intensity of making out with him was just—there weren't words. I'd seen making out on TV and in movies, but you just can't imagine it until you're with someone you can't keep your hands off of. When his fingers found the hem of my shirt and slid up the back, connecting with my skin, I couldn't help but arch back. It left my neck exposed to his mouth as he kissed and sucked a path along my neck and down to my collarbone.

  I was
in some kind of incredible, but torturous haze until he started lifting my T-shirt. Alarms went off all over in my head, and that panicked feeling came back. I stayed very still, not sure what to do. I wanted him to keep going, but I was scared. He stopped kissing my neck and let his head fall against my shoulder. Slowly, deliberately, he readjusted my shirt and lifted his head. I didn't know if I should say something—maybe apologize or kiss him again.

  He put his hands on my cheeks, holding my gaze to his. "I think we have the whole 'can't keep our hands off each other' part of that definition down real well."

  His smile made me smile, and he pulled me into a tight hug, shaking his head. We stayed like that for several minutes, resting our heads on each other's shoulders. He ran his fingers through my hair, and I focused on making my erratic breaths match his even ones.

  Being in his arms made me feel safe and cared for. He could have pushed me to sleep with him. He could have tried to get me drunk. He could have ditched me when I freaked out on him. He didn't, though. He was still with me even though he was obviously used to getting a little, uh, more out of a date.

  "As much as I'd love to have you fall asleep in my arms, I don't think your dad would be too happy with finding us out here like this."

  I sat up and stretched my arms, yawning. "He doesn't care what I do. No one does, really."

  His hand caressed my cheek again. "I care what you do, sunshine."

  I closed my eyes and leaned my head into his hand.

  "You look so tired, sweetheart. Come on." He patted my butt, making me smile. "I'll walk you to your door."

  At my door, he kissed me on my forehead and said good night. I fell asleep thinking it was the best, most intense night of my life.

  Sleep with Me

  I didn't wake up until almost noon the next day. Dad just raised an eyebrow at me and continued working in the kitchen. I had to stare at him for a few minutes before I realized what he was doing.

  "Are you cooking?" I asked in shock.

  He laughed. "You don't need to sound so surprised. I can cook when I have time, but I'm just making burgers. That is, if you don't mind burgers for breakfast. Noon is the traditional time for lunch, you know."